


Accident

by bioluminescence



Series: The Turn of a Card [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Post Reichenbach, References to Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-22
Updated: 2012-02-22
Packaged: 2017-10-31 14:09:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/344889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bioluminescence/pseuds/bioluminescence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Accidents happen, every day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Accident

**Author's Note:**

> The first in a series of 221b ficlets.
> 
> This is my first work in the Sherlock fandom, as well as my first bit of writing in years. Not beta'd or Brit-picked so concrit is always welcome.
> 
> Series title comes from the Tom Mcrae song "A Day Like Today."

One month After, paramedics come to 221B Baker Street.  
  
You stare at them, answering their questions in a voice that sounds very far away. Mrs. Hudson must have called because you have no memory of dialing a phone ( _have you even spoken more than a few words in the past week? you must have. you just don’t remember what, or to who_ _)_. Your door was locked and you’re not entirely sure how they'd have got upstairs without her.  
  
At the hospital the nurse accepts your muted explanation and focuses instead on making the stitches neat and small. When she assures you that the scarring should be minimal the effort it takes not to frown almost isn’t worth it. But then you think of the paperwork required to release yourself from involuntary commitment ( _such a hassle, really. don’t they know you’re a doctor too? don’t they know that if you’d meant it, really **meant** it --_ ) and manage a small hum of agreement.  
  
When she steps away to speak to a doctor you feel suddenly exhausted, even more so than before. The paper thin sheets crumple easily under your hands and the medication must be kicking in because now you can barely feel anything - not tired, not hungry ( _you’d been making dinner, honestly_ ), nothing.  
  
You certainly can’t feel the accident underneath your bandage.


End file.
